Legacy
by sandybeliever
Summary: Starsky is starting a business as a private eye. A tall blonde stranger answers his ad for an assistant. Who is this stranger and why does he remind Starksy of Hutch?


**Legacy**

Starsky stepped into his office slowly and looked around the dimly lit room. He looked over at the frosted glass door. _David Starsky, Private Detective _was painted in gold lettering with black outline. Starsky's head dropped down and he shook it slowly. He shut the door and approached the desk. It was handsome and the chair behind it was made of fine leather with wood trim. Starsky leaned one hip on the corner of the desk, folded his hands and rested them on his thigh. He sighed.

_Gotta get back to work sometime,_ he thought to himself. He moved around to the chair and sat down. The leather creaked and groaned. He smiled sadly. _Sounds like your old leather jacket, Buddy._ Starsky flipped through the rolodex in front of him as he jotted down some notes. He picked up the phone and dialed a number.

"Yes, I'd like to place an ad in your paper. It's for a Detective Agency. Yes, I'll hold."

A month later, Starsky came through the door again. He dropped into the chair with a sigh. The message light on his phone blinked rapidly. He pushed the phone aside and rested his head in his hands for a moment then leaned back, groaning in exhaustion. _You should be happy things are so busy, idiot._

Even before the ads had hit the papers, Starsky had been inundated with calls from people who had heard he had started the business. They all wanted his help, his expertise, his insight. He ended up being able to pick and choose from the cases. He wanted to start slow, ease in. After all, he'd been off the streets for over six months. And working cases from the other side of the police desk was something he needed to learn, too. But even easy cases were getting to him. They were back to back and overlapping. He was beat.

"I'm getting old," he said aloud and he jumped at the sound of his own voice echoing off the bare wall across from him. He ran a hand through his graying hair. Starsky studied the room. "Another small desk would fit right there." He flipped through the rolodex and dialed the number. "I'd like to place a want ad, please. Yes, I'll hold."

After the call was completed, Starsky began listening to his messages. As he jotted down the names and numbers, he thought to himself, _Maybe a pretty face across the room is just what this place needs. But hell, if she can type and answer a phone, I'll hire anyone._

Starsky flipped through the messages. One was from Huggy asking him to stop by the restaurant soon. He deleted that one without making a note, flicked off the desk light and leaned slowly back into the comfortable chair. He was snoring in minutes.

A few days later, Starsky was finishing up a report on his latest case. There was a knock at the door.

"Come in."

The door opened and a young blond man stepped in. Starsky's heart jumped as he took in the tall man before him. Starsky stood up and extended his hand as he introduced himself, noting subconsciously the other's height which was about 6'1". He was apparently in his early twenties, his hair was golden blond and reached almost to the top of his collar. He was clean shaven. His eyes were a familiar blue.

"I'm Dave Starsky. Come in." Starsky said after a moment.

"Hello. I'm Andrew Kensington," the young man replied. After a moment he continued. "Is there something wrong?"

"Huh? I mean, what?" Starsky sputtered, embarrassed.

"You seem to be staring at me oddly."

"Oh sorry. That was rude. You just reminded me of someone for a minute."

"Did I?"

"Yeah, but never mind." Starsky gestured to the seat across from his desk and sat down in his own. "What can I do for you?" Starsky continued to study the young man. _Nah, there isn't as much resemblance as I first thought. His face is longer, his nose slimmer. Snap out of it, Starsky._

"Well…I…it's just that…"

Starsky's stomach flipped as the young man stammered. He looked down for a moment, pasted a smile on his face and looked back up. "Are you here to hire me?"

"What?"

"Hire me. You know." Starsky pointed down at the name plate on his desk.

"Oh. Oh, no."

Starsky looked confused for a moment then asked, "Are you here about the job?" He couldn't keep the astonished tone from his voice as he pointed to the new desk in the corner.

Andrew Kensington looked behind him where Starsky was pointing then looked back with a smile. "Why yes, I am."

"Seriously? I mean, you ain't what I expected, ya know?"

"I'm sure I'm not but I do need a job and I know I can do the work."

Starsky stared off and remembered his own words to himself just a few days ago. "Can you type?" Andrew nodded. "Answer phones?" Another nod.

With a sigh, Starsky threw up his hands. "Ya know what? You're hired. Mind you, it doesn't pay much. I'm just starting out."

"No problem," Andrew said breaking into a grin that caught Starsky's attention. The smile was so much like…

Starsky shook himself from his reverie. "Okay then, Andrew."

"You can call me Drew."

"Drew? Okay. I like to be called Starsky, if you don't mind."

"Mr. Starsky?"

"Gawd, no. Just Starsky. So, when can you start?" The phone rang and Starsky reached for it but Drew waved his hand away and went to the desk on the other side of the room.

"How about right now?" He picked up the receiver and hit the blinking button. "Dave Starsky Detective Agency, this is Drew, how may I help you?"

Starsky grinned as he watched Drew.

"Excuse me, what was the name? Huggy?"

Starsky stood up and waved his hands wildly. Drew picked up on what his new boss was trying to say. "No, I'm sorry Mr. Bear, Mr. Starsky is out of the office at the moment. May I take a message?"

Starsky smiled but then felt bad for once again blowing off his friend. As Drew ended the call, Starsky said, "Thanks. He's a friend. I…just didn't want to talk to him right now."

Drew placed the pink slip of paper next to the phone. "No explanation necessary, Starsky. What do you need me to do now?"

Starsky looked around the room. "Uh, geez. I don't know. This is new to me too."

Drew spotted a stack of papers on top of the file cabinet. He pulled open the drawer and saw nothing but empty blank manila folders. He looked over at his boss who shrugged sheepishly. "I haven't had time to…to…"

"Do _anything_?" Drew's voice dropped lower as he said those words making Starsky look up him sharply.

"Yeah," he said simply, amazed at how much Drew sounded like another blond he had known.

Drew looked through all the drawers, pulling out a few items he thought he could use.

"File folder labels?" he asked. Starsky looked at him blankly. "Do you have any file folder labels?"

"What the heck are those?"

Drew let out a breath. "I think I'm going to have to go an office supply store before I get started."

"Oh. Okay, sure. Go ahead. Uh," Starsky reached for his wallet, "Here's some cash."

Drew studied the wad of bills Starsky had given him. "You should look into getting a business credit card." When he saw Starsky's blank stare, he chuckled and shook his head. "One step at a time." Drew headed out of the office. Starsky got up and went to the door with him. "I'll be back in an hour or so."

Starsky stood in the doorway and watched his new employee walk off. His long legs loped toward the stairwell and from the back, Starsky could swear he knew him.

At the end of the first day, Drew had busied himself getting the office in order and filing Starsky's reports. Starsky had to make a few stops so he had another set of keys made while he was out and gave them to Drew who took them and stared at them for a moment.

He looked up. "Thank you, Starsky."

"Well, no sense working here if you can't get in, right?" Starsky forced a chuckle but felt somewhat uncomfortable in the moment, as if it meant more to Drew than it should have. Starsky looked at his watch. "Hey, it's quittin' time. Goodnight." Starsky went and sat back down at his desk.

"Aren't you leaving?" Drew asked, his eyes wandering to the leather couch nearby, a red plaid blanket tossed on a nearby chair.

Starsky followed Drew's gaze. "Oh, sure. I'm going soon. Just going to finish up a few things."

Drew looked at Starsky's empty desk. The two sets of blue eyes momentarily meeting. Starsky looked away, feeling that the young man knew more about him than he cared to let on.

"Well, goodnight," Drew said awkwardly. "Can you recommend an inexpensive but not too dive-ish hotel?"

"Hotel?"

"Yeah, I am actually new in town. I'll be looking for somewhere to stay."

Before he even knew what he was saying, Starsky said, "Hey, I've got plenty of room at my place. No need for you to sleep in any of the joints around here."

"Really?"

Starsky again answered without thinking. "Yeah, really."

"Well…okay."

"T'rrific. Let's go."

Starsky locked up the office and led Drew down to his car. "Wow, is this a Torino?"

Starsky puffed up in pride at his baby. "Yup. 1976. Took it right from the showroom floor."

Drew got in after Starsky unlocked the door. He sat down in the seat then reached under him and pulled out a paper sack.

"Oh sorry, that was my breakfast." Starsky tossed the bag into the back seat.

"Starsky, it's a car, not a garbage dump," Drew joked but got nervous when he saw Starsky's stunned expression. "Sorry, I didn't mean anything by it."

"No, don't sweat it. Really. And the seats are kind of worn out so they aren't very comfortable. I usually drive my jeep, actually. But for some reason I felt like taking her today." Starsky patted the dash affectionately.

"The paint job is amazing."

"Yeah? Ya like it?"

"I do."

Starsky smiled, assuring himself there was less and less about this man that reminded him of Hutch. He started the car and headed out of the city. Forty minutes later, he pulled up in front of the small ranch that was now his home.

"This is your place?" Drew asked and Starsky shrugged then nodded. "It's great. Is that a barn in the back?"

"Yeah. There is even a horse." Starsky got out and headed into the house. He tossed his keys on the table near the door and went into the kitchen. "You want a beer, Drew?"

"Sure," Drew answered as he looked around the beautiful ranch house. He admired the wood trim and the abundance of plants. "This is a great place, Starsky."

Starsky took two beers from the refrigerator and headed back to Drew. Handing him one, he shrugged, "Yeah well, it wasn't mine originally." He ignored Drew's 'huh?' and headed toward the back slider. "Come on, I'll show you Royale."

Starsky closed the sliding glass door behind them then headed off the back deck and into the corral. He ticked his tongue and a beautiful deep brown horse galloped out to great them. He trotted toward Starsky who pulled a carrot from his pocket and offered it to his friend.

"That's a gorgeous stallion."

Starsky smirked. Gelding actually.

"Oh. Sorry."

"Not as sorry as he is, right Royale?" Starsky rubbed the animal's snout. Starsky backed away from Royale. "He knows a trick. Let me see if I can do the whistle." Starsky tried to whistle sharply but it didn't work very well. "No, that's not it." He tried again and succeeded to make a sharp sound. Royale responded by rearing back on his hind legs. He whinnied as he came down hard onto all fours.

"Hey, that's amazing. Can I try?"

"Sure, go ahead."

Drew managed the whistle on his first try. Royale reared up and waved his front legs in the air before coming down hard onto the dirt.

"Great name," Drew said reaching to pat the horse's neck.

"He's named after a national park in Minnesota."

"Isle Royale?'

"Yeah, that's it."

"That is actually in Michigan."

"Oh, you've been?"

"No, not yet. I'd love to go someday. I love to hike and camp. I want to visit all the national parks but I know that would be impossible."

"You sound like someone I know…knew."

"Is that park as beautiful as I think it is?"

Starsky, gave Royale a stroke down his flank then turned and headed back to the corral gate. "I've never been there either."

"Oh…I just assumed."

Starsky took a swig from his beer and placed it back down on the corral post. He was beginning to wish he hadn't invited this kid to the ranch. "Look, I didn't name him. He isn't my horse. Well…he is…now."

"How do you mean?"

Starsky leaned his forearms on the top rung of the corral and rested a knee on a lower beam. He hung his head. "He belonged to my partner. This is his house. His ranch." When Drew didn't reply, Starsky looked over at him expecting questions, but there were none.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" Starsky tried not to snap the question.

"Your partner. What was his name?"

Starsky studied Drew in the light of the almost-full moon. The similarities were uncanny. He hung his head again, not wanting to see the blue eyes and blond hair beside him. "Hutch. His name was Hutch. Well, Ken Hutchinson. But I called him…" Starsky stopped talking as a lump formed in his throat. He picked up his beer and finished it. "I could use another, you?"

"Sure."

Starsky grabbed four more beers and placed two across the table on the deck. He pulled open one of his and drank it down. He got up and dropped some kindling and paper into the fire pit in the center of the deck and lit it with a lighter he had in his pocket. After a few moments watching the flames dance, he started to talk.

"Hutch and I were partners in the BCPD almost right out of the academy. We were a good team. The best, some said. In '79, I was shot. It was bad. Almost didn't make it. Hutch and I had joked a few times about quitting the force." Starsky let out a huff of a laugh. "We were going to join the Canadian football league when…" his voice trailed off. He took a gulp of beer. "Anyway, I was out on leave for a long time. When I got back, the streets didn't have the same draw, ya know?" Starsky looked up at Drew then shook his head. "Naw, you don't know. Anyway, we went for Lieutenant and got it. Captain Dobey…he's Chief now but back then he was still Captain – he started a new unit and Hutch and I were made the leads of it. We each had our own team of detectives under us but we worked together a lot. It was great. Chief Dobey kept telling us to go for Captain but Hutch and I liked it right where we were. We'd still be working together if…" Starsky cleared his throat and finished his beer. He looked up to see Drew slide his untouched second beer toward him. "Thanks," he whispered. Drew took a sip of his own beer and watched the flames dance as Starsky pulled himself together. "You'd think we would have gone out in a fire fighter, wouldn't ya?" Starsky didn't look up for a response. "But it was cancer. Shitty old cancer took my best friend." Starsky looked up, his eyes glistening with tears. He saw a profound sorrow in the eyes of the blond man across from him. Even though the question wasn't asked, he answered, "Six months ago."

Starsky leaned back in his chair, resting his beer bottle in his hands between his thighs. He looked up at the sky. The stars sparkled brightly just as they did the first night after Hutch moved in. He'd never seen his partner so happy.

"With the extra cash from being promoted, Hutch bought this place. It was just the house. His father passed away and he came into some money so he added on, built the deck, the barn and this enclosure."

"That's when he got Royale?" Drew's voice was low. Starsky nodded sadly as he watched the handsome horse paw at the dirt not far beyond the railing.

"He loved that horse. Rode him up into the mountains every chance he got." Starsky managed a smile. "Even took me out there a few times on a borrowed mare from the farm down the road." Starsky continued to stare out into the field. "The guy that owns that mare comes and cares for Royale. I'm not here much and I don't know much about what they need." Starsky saw Drew nod in the firelight.

"Sounds like you had an amazing partnership."

"That we did. He was my best friend. They'll never be another like him." Starsky looked over at his companion and was struck again at how much he reminded him of Hutch. Starsky shook it off, chocking it up to his melancholy mood. "Man, look at the time. I'm sorry I chewed your ear off, Drew."

"Don't worry about it. Thanks for sharing Hutch's story, Starsky. I just have one question."

Starsky took in a deep breath. He didn't know if he could explain much more about Hutch tonight. "What's that?"

"Was that a ping pong table I saw inside?"

Starsky's head popped up and his mouth dropped opened. He began to laugh. "You in?"

"Oh, I'm in all right."

An hour later, Starsky dove for the ball and missed. Drew shouted "I just whooped your ass!"

"Austin 3:16." Drew nodded. "Hey, are you a wrestling fan?" Starsky asked.

"Who isn't?" Drew said as he reached for the last of his beer.

"Just so ya know, I'm a Jake the Snake fan."

Drew hiccupped as he put the beer can back down on the table. "It may make it difficult to work for you. I'm sorry."

Starsky chuckled as he dropped his paddle on the table and headed for the kitchen. He opened the fridge and stared inside. "Uh, we seem to be out of beer."

"Whazat?" Drew called from behind him.

Starsky opened a cabinet and peered inside. "Have no fear, I think I have something else." He reached in the back and pulled out a bottle of scotch. Drew plunked himself down on a stool at the kitchen breakfast bar. He peered at the scotch that Starsky held, none too steady, in front of him.

"Well, I'd rather have a bottle in front of me instead of a frontal lobotomy. Where's the glasses?" Drew looked around then back up at Starsky who was staring at him open mouthed.

"What did you say?"

"I said, where's the glasses? Or I can just drink it from the bottle, hand it over."

Starsky took two glasses from another cabinet and put them in front of Drew then went to the stereo. He searched through some records then chose one and put it on the turntable. As the music began, Drew poured two glassfuls of the Scotch.

He made a face as the singer started. "Who is that guy? Sounds like he's got a bad case of laryngitis."

"That's Tom Waits," Starsky said as he came back over to sit next to Drew. "You never heard of him?"

"Nope."

"Well, you just quoted him." Starsky took a swig of the Scotch. He laughed as Drew sipped his carefully then coughed.

"Did I?"

"You did." Starsky laughed as he realized Drew had never had Scotch by the look of things. Drew began to laugh along with him. "What time is it?"

"I dunno," Drew said as he continued to try to finish his drink.

Starsky tried to read his watch but his eyes wouldn't focus. "Me neither. But I'm goin' ta bed."

"Okay, goodnight." Drew held up his glass as Starsky walked away.

Starsky turned around, pulled the glass from Drew's hand and then led him by the elbow. "Come on, Junior. It's a school night, you are going to bed too." Starsky snapped the kitchen light off as he passed.

"Aw, do I hafta?"

"Yes, come on."

_Starsk, I can't do this anymore, Buddy._

_Whataya mean? You have to keep fighting, Hutch._

_I'm tired. The treatment isn't working anymore._

Starsky reached for Hutch's hand. _I'm not ready yet._

_Please, Starsky. Let me go._

Starsky sat straight up in bed as he woke up from the nightmare. He had heard himself shout the word 'no' but wasn't sure if it was only in the dream. He listened carefully, remembering Drew was right down the hall. He heard a door close then the sounds of retching. He winced in sympathy and wondered if he should go check on the man. After hearing the toilet flush and the sink run, Starsky laid back down. He heard the bathroom door open, the sound of feet padding down the hall and then the bedroom door close. Starsky rolled over and stared out into the darkness beyond the window. He had spent many a night listening to Hutch vomit after a particularly nasty treatment. Those nights he would always rise, slip into the room, wet a facecloth and put it on the back of his best friend's neck as he held his head. Starsky wiped a tear from his eye and tried to go back to sleep.

After a few weeks, Starsky started looking forward to Drew's company in the office. He brought him to Huggy's restaurant and introduced them. After lunch, Huggy took Starsky aside and mentioned the resemblance to Hutch.

"I know, he even sounds like him sometimes. I swear he has some of his mannerisms but I think I'm just imagining it."

"I guess everyone has a twin," Huggy replied. "It's good to see you again, Starsky. I wish you wouldn't be such a stranger. I miss you."

"I know, Huggy. I'm sorry. I promise to try to come around more. It's just been crazy getting the business going, ya know."

"Oh, I know, believe me." Huggy held up his hands as he stood in the middle of his high-end restaurant. "Hutch may have left me the money to start this but it is still back-breaking work."

Starsky grinned at his friend. "And worth every ache and pain, Huggy. This place is t'rrific. You know Italian is one of my favorites."

"Don't I know it," Huggy said, patting Starsky on the back. Drew came back from the men's room. "It was nice meeting you, Drew. Come back to Antonio's anytime and ask for me. I'll give you my special discount."

"Wow, thank you, Huggy."

"Any friend of Starsky's is a friend of Huggy's."

"So, do you think you can convince him to put a computer in the office?" Drew asked sincerely.

Huggy laughed. "I am just amazed you got him to carry a pager, my man. Starsky seems to want to remain in the dark ages. Baby steps, Drew. Baby steps."

Starsky scoffed. "What do I need a computer for? And do you know he wanted me to carry one of those cell phones? Mark my words, those things aren't going to last. Just a flash in the pan."

Huggy shook his head and winked at Drew knowingly. The trio said their goodbyes and Starsky and Drew headed back to the office.

Once there, Starsky made some notes and got up to leave. "I'll be back in a few hours, Drew. I'm going to meet with Paula Cote."

"The woman who thinks she is being blackmailed?"

"Yeah, that's her."

"Do you think I could come along this time?"

Starsky stopped with his hand on the door knob. "What?" he asked as he turned to face Drew.

"Well, maybe I could be of some help, you know?" Drew smiled hopefully.

Starsky's grip on the door knob tightened. "I work alone."

"Yeah, I know but…"

"I don't need a partner! I had a partner. He's gone. Drop it!" Starsky slammed the door behind him.

Starsky came back later and quietly sat down at his desk. Drew was sitting at his own desk typing. "Look, Drew…"

"Starsky, I was out of line. I'm sorry. You hired me to help in the office. I had no right to ask to join you."

Starsky inwardly cringed. He felt bad for yelling at Drew. The younger man's quiet tone again reminded him of his lost partner which wasn't doing Drew any favors. "I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. If you want to get into this business, I know a few good PI's in town that I could speak to."

Drew looked up from the spot on the desk that he had been staring at. "No, Starsky. I don't want to leave."

Starsky could see in the young man's eyes that he was sincere. Starsky got up and came to the front of his desk. He leaned back on it and folded his arms, crossing his legs at the ankle. "Why not? Drew, how old are you?"

"Twenty two."

"Twenty two. You've got your whole life ahead of you and here you are typing reports in my crumby little office. You saved up money, got your own place, your own car. There is nothing holding you back now."

Drew leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling. He looked like he had lost his best friend. His voice was very quiet. "If you want me to go, I'll put an ad in the paper for a new assistant. I'll leave as soon as you hire one." Drew went back to typing, his fingers hitting the keys abruptly. He typed with just his two index fingers.

Starsky watched him for a moment and realized that he had taken Drew's word that he could type but now realized that he was no better at it than he himself was. Starsky's vision blurred and imagined it was Hutch pecking at the typewriter. He cleared his throat and Drew looked up. "You don't have to leave if you don't want to, Drew. I just want you to do something with yourself. Go to college, maybe."

"I went to college."

Starsky looked up, surprised. "You did?" Drew nodded. "I don't understand…"

"Starsky, this is where I want to be right now. Sure, I'll move on some day and do something more but can you just accept that I need to be here?"

"Need? You need to be here? Why?"

Drew looked away from Starsky. "I meant I want to be here."

Starsky sighed, unfolded his arms and held them out, palms up. "Fine. Stay." He sat back down at his desk. "I do enjoy your company."

"Yeah?"

Starsky grinned, "Yeah."

Drew went back to his report.

The next morning, Drew came down the hall carrying two cups of coffee. He was trying to balance them as he fished in his pocket for the office keys. He didn't look up until he reached the door. What he saw made him take a quick step back.

A black funeral wreath was hanging on the door to Starsky's office. Drew put the coffees down on a hall table and reached for the card attached to the wreath. His hand began to shake as he read the words which were fashioned from newspaper and magazine lettering. _In memorandum of David Starsky who will die on Friday, April 10__th__._

Starsky was on his way through the streets of Bay City when his pager went off. He pulled it from his belt and looked at the message. _Urgent! Please call the office ASAP._ Starsky tried to imagine what would constitute urgent in his new line of work. He dropped the pager on the seat and kept driving. After a minute he picked it back up and re-read the message. He got a hollow feeling in his stomach and for the first time since leaving the force, he wished he had the siren and bubble light. He calculated it would be quicker to keep driving than to pull over and find a payphone. _Maybe a cellphone isn't such a bad idea after all,_ he thought to himself.

Starsky parked his Jeep on the street instead of taking the time to find a spot around back. He rushed up to the second floor and down the hall. He found the office door open. Drew was waiting for him inside.

"What's up?" Starsky asked breathlessly.

Drew picked up the wreath that was lying on Starsky's desk. "This. I found it on the door when I came in. This was with it." Drew handed Starsky the note.

"What the hell?" Starsky placed the note down on the desk and studied the wreath. He looked up at Drew and could see the young man was visibly shaken. Starsky reached out and put a comforting hand on Drew's shoulder. "Hey, calm down, Junior. Listen, this sort of thing has been known to happen. After umpteen years putting scum behind bars, a few will hold a grudge. It's probably nothing."

"Nothing? Starsky that note says you'll be dead in three days."

"Like I said, it's probably nothing. But I'm going to call Captain Ren at Metro right now." Starsky saw Drew relax a bit with this news. "Go sit down before you fall down." Starsky forced a grin. Drew went to his desk and sat down and began to shuffle through the paperwork on his desk. Starsky sat down and dialed the number he knew by heart. When Dobey became chief, Alan Ren replaced him and was given the same extension Dobey had.

"I'd like to speak to Captain Ren. This is Dave Starsky calling." Starsky smiled over at Drew as he waited to be connected. "Hi Cap'n. Alan, yeah, that is hard to remember. Anyway Alan, I was hoping you had a few minutes to come by my office. There is something I need you to see and if I can call in a favor, I'd like to avoid the middle man on this one. That would be great. See you then." Starsky hung up the phone and stared at the funeral wreath. The matching black ribbon had the lettering "R.I.P." on it.

"Drew, you picked this up by the wire on the back. Did you do the same when you took it off the door?"

"I…I think so. I was pretty freaked out so I didn't think about finger prints. S…sorry."

Starsky smiled sadly as the stutter reminded him of Hutch again. "It's okay; don't worry about it."

Starsky looked out the window as he heard a siren. Captain Alan's car pulled up in front of the building. "He didn't waste any time. Give a cop a reason to use his lights and siren and he'll do it." Drew smiled weakly at Starsky's attempt to lighten the mood. Starsky opened the office door as he heard Captain Ren approach. Hey, Alan. Come on in."

"What's going on, Starsky?" Captain Ren cut right to the point. He was of Chinese decent, shorter than Starsky but not by much. His straight black hair was gray at the temples.

"Well, Cap'n," Starsky put his hand over his eyes for a second. "Look, you were my Captain for eight years so I'm just gonna keep calling you that, deal?" Ren nodded his head and smiled. "My assistant found this wreath on the door when he came in this morning.

Drew stood up as he was mentioned. Ren turned towards him to shake his hand but was shocked by the young man's appearance. He recovered and extended his hand. "Captain Alan Ren. Nice to meet you."

"Andrew Kensington, it is an honor to meet you, sir."

"You know, you remind me of Dave's former partner."

"Really?"

"Don't think it is something creepy, Cap'n. Drew was the first one to show up after I placed a want ad."

Ren continued to study Drew. "Just a coincidence, huh?" Drew nodded and smiled.

"Sir, this note was attached to the wreath." Drew pointed at the small piece of paper sitting on the desk.

Ren carefully picked up the note and slipped it into an evidence bag. "Starsky, do you have a clean trash bag handy for the wreath? That'll protect it while I bring it down to Metro. Starsky took a trash bag from a closet and slipped it around the wreath.

"If I could ask a favor, I would like to get a list of anyone that was recently released from prison that I was involved in their arrest. I know it's a lot to ask."

"You forget this is the age of computers, Starsky. It won't take too long. I'll get someone on it right away and we can have any state offenders to you in a few hours. Federal raps will take longer."

"I appreciate this, Cap'n." Starsky shook his former captain's hand and closed the door behind him. He turned back to Drew who sat staring into space. "See, everything will be fine." Starsky sat back down at his desk and hoped he was right.

Starsky watched as the fax machine printed out the list of recently released men and women. When it was done he ran a finger down the short list, folded the paper and tucked it inside his jacket. "I probably won't see you until tomorrow, Drew. Have a good night."

"Starsky, wait." Drew stood up and fiddled with the pencil in his hand.

Starsky turned back. "Yeah?"

"I know you don't want a partner but…under the circumstances."

"What is it?"

Drew looked down at the pencil then back up. "I would feel a heck of a lot better if I could just tag along." Drew closed his eyes, bracing for Starsky's response but then looked up in surprised when he heard it.

"Okay, come on."

"Ya mean it?"

Starsky chuckled. "Yes, but hurry up before I change my mind."

Drew quickly grabbed his jacket and the office keys. "Thank you," he said as he locked the door. "I promise I'll come back and pick up the messages."

Starsky put his arm on his assistant's shoulders. "Don't worry about that. And Drew…" Drew turned back to face his boss. "Thanks for worrying about me." The two men headed to the street together.

"May I help you?" The woman said as she opened her front door. "Oh, Detective Starsky."

"Well, it's just Dave now, Mrs. Bennitt. This is my associate, Drew Kensington. Is your husband home?"

"Yes, he is. Come in." The woman led Starsky into the modest home. She whispered in a young boy's ear who then went down the hall and disappeared. "Doug, Detective Starsky is here to see you."

"What do you want?" Doug Bennitt asked, getting up from the sofa.

"It is just Starsky now. I'm off the force," Starsky explained again.

"Well, that's good to hear," Bennitt said sarcastically. "Now what do you want? I paid my time, I figured I wouldn't be seeing you again."

"Mr. Bennitt, I am here because I've had a threat to my life and I…" Starsky paused as the middle-aged man laughed out loud. Starsky changed his tactics. "Bennitt, are you trying to kill me?"

After another bout of forced laughter, Doug Bennitt sneered at Starsky then at Drew. "Huh, traded in your partner for a newer model, huh? Anyway, I wouldn't waste my time on you, Starsky. My life is finally getting back on track, no thanks to you. You and that Hutchinson could have looked the other way but you had to get another brownie point, another gold star on your record, didn't ya?"

Starsky bristled at the use of Hutch's name but kept his cool. "So, you aren't the one who sent me the threat?"

"I told you, no. I'm not taking any chances of being sent back up and certainly not for the murder of a cop. Now get out of my house."

Drew made a small noise of exasperation and looked over in disgust at Starsky who gave a slight nod and a smile.

"Okay, Bennitt. But I'll be keeping my eye on you." Starsky turned and strutted toward the front door. "We'll let ourselves out." Once outside, he relaxed.

"What an idiot," Drew said angrily.

"Hey, most of these two bit crooks do what they do because they don't have the brains to do something on the up and up."

"But he didn't hear you tell him that you aren't a cop anymore."

Starsky smiled over to Drew as they got into his Jeep. "Well, maybe in this case, it's a good thing. Let him think I am a cop because killing a cop is a lot worse than killing a private eye. At least in this town, anyway."

Drew nodded and looked down at the list in his hand. "The next guy on the list…"

"No forget it. It's getting late. We'll pick this up tomorrow."

"Starsky, are you sure? One of these people may be getting ready to kill you any minute."

"Nah, the note said Friday. I think he'll stick with his schedule. Just a hunch. This one likes dramatics."

"How can you be so cavalier?"

Starsky stopped at a red light and looked over at Drew as he rested his elbow on the console between them. "You can't be a cop for as long as I was and not be a little casual about something like this." The light changed to green, Starsky put the Jeep in gear and headed back to the office to drop Drew at his car.

Starsky pulled into an empty spot next to Drew's car, a 1993 Ford Mustang painted a similar red to Starsky's own Torino. "Goodnight, Junior."

"Uh, Starsky, do you think I could come stay at the ranch tonight."

Starsky looked away. "I'll be fine, Drew. Don't worry so much."

"I…I can't help it."

"Look, I knew this has you pretty freaked out right now but I don't want you to give it another thought. This is my problem." Starsky saw the look on the other man's face and wondered why someone he'd only know a few weeks seemed to be so attached. As for himself, he oscillated between appreciating the company and finding himself irritated by Drew's resemblance to his dead partner. Starsky briefly considering letting Drew come home with him but that same resemblance to Hutch had been causing Starsky to have vivid nightmares almost every night. He didn't want to risk Drew finding out about the dreams. "I'll see you tomorrow, bright and early."

Drew climbed out of the Jeep without another word. Starsky quickly backed out of the parking spot and sped back onto the street, the vehicle bouncing off the curb as it went. He glanced in his rearview mirror and saw Drew standing next to his car, staring down at his feet.

The next morning, Starsky arrived early before Drew. He let himself into the office and looked around. It was spotless. He could see that Drew hadn't gone home last night but had worked for at least a few hours from what Starsky could tell. A twinge of guilt hit him but he brushed it off. Drew arrived a few minutes later and although he seemed happy to see Starsky, he didn't say much and sat down at his desk.

At nine o'clock, there was a knock at the door. A special messenger handed Starsky a large manila envelope. He signed for it and sat down to open it.

"Who is it from?" Drew asked, concerned.

"Don't know yet. No return address."

Drew got up and came around to Starsky's side of the desk as Starsky pulled three large photographs from the envelope. The first was one of Starsky in his Torino outside the office. The second photograph was one of him and Drew as they left the building yesterday morning. The fourth caught Starsky by surprise. It was one of him walking down the street with a man following behind him pointing what looked like a concealed weapon at Starsky's back. Each photograph had a circle and cross hairs over Starsky's face.

"Oh my God," Drew whispered.

"My sentiments exactly." Starsky put the photos down on the desk, being careful not to touch anything but the edge. "The wreath had no prints and I doubt these do, but we should have them checked anyway. Drew, would you mind bringing these to Metro for me? I'll call Captain Ren and tell him you are coming."

"Of course, Starsky. What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to visit the next person on that list of ours." Starsky saw Drew's concerned and waved it away. "This guy is obviously enjoying his game, nothing is going to happen to me before Friday. I'm certain of that now." Starsky moved to put the photos back in the envelope but Drew reached out and took hold of his wrist.

"Wait a minute, Starsky," Drew said. Starsky was relieved when Drew let go of his arm. The personal touch spooked him in a way he couldn't understand. "Look at those markings."

"So? Just circles with lines drawn through them."

Drew carefully picked up one photo and held it by the edges in front of Starsky's desk lamp. "See that pin prick in the center?"

"Oh yeah. What is that from?"

"These circles are all perfectly formed, along with the lines. The hole in the center is most likely from using a compass. These aren't just haphazardly drawn on here."

Starsky carefully studied each of the photos. "So you are saying that whoever drew these, used certain tools."

"Yes, drafting tools."

"Drew that's a good catch. Will you mention that to Captain Ren?"

Drew smiled proudly. "I sure will."

After Drew left, Starsky took the list of suspects from his coat and called another old friend at the department. He asked to cross check the list with prison records. One person on the list came back as having been trained in draftsmanship in prison: Ray Breault. Starsky thought about the person in the photo holding the weapon but couldn't be sure if that man in the dark glasses could be Breault.

"Only one way to find out." He put his firearm in its holster, picked up his keys and left.

Breault's wife let him in. He followed her to an office where Ray Breault sat behind a drafting table.

"Lieutenant Starsky, hello! It's so good to see you."

"It isn't…I mean, I'm no longer on the force."

"Oh, you know, I heard about Lieutenant Hutchinson. I'm sorry."

Starsky chose to ignore the condolences and got right to the point. "Ray, I have had some death threats." Breault looked up from his drafting tools, surprise on his face.

"You don't think Ray had anything to do with it, do you, Mr. Starsky?" Mrs. Breault asked.

"Hey, you don't have to wonder about me. If anything I owe you a favor."

"How's that?" Starsky asked.

"I was messed up. Dealing drugs and taking them myself. Prison was the best thing that could have happened. I straightened myself out and got into the training program. I am thanking you, not threatening you."

"Well, that's good to hear," Starsky said. "I hope I can believe it."

Breault put down his tools. "There is something else you should know." Breault puts his hands down beside him. Starsky watched as he pushed his wheelchair out from behind the drafting table. "Prison riot three years ago. I won't be getting out of this chair ever again."

Starsky looked away and mumbled, "I'm sorry."

"Hey, nothing to be sorry about. I've got my wife, my kids and this business I can run right here. I hope you find who is threatening you. I mean that, Dave."

Starsky smiled humbly and reached to shake Breault's hand. "I'm sorry to have bothered you, Ray, Mrs. Breault."

Starsky hurried from the house and got in his Jeep. He sat and thought about the wreath, the note, the pictures. Maybe he wasn't going to weasel his way out of this one. Drew Kensington popped in his mind and he found himself worrying about the young man. _Oh stop it, Starsky. He'll find another job. That's all you are to him is a job. _But as Starsky pulled into the street, he knew deep down that wasn't true.

Starsky got back to the office and was surprised to see Drew hadn't returned yet. He thought about calling the precinct but then dismissed the idea. _Stop it, Starsky. Next thing ya know, you'll have __him__ carrying a cell phone._ Starsky smirked at himself just as the door opened and Drew came in.

"Hey, there you are. What took you so long?"

Drew seemed out of breath. "Any luck with Ray Breault?"

"Nope, none."

"I didn't think so. Look at this." Drew handed Starsky a computer printout.

"What's this? Danny Booth. Danny Booth, I remember him." Starsky skimmed the printout. "How did you get this?"

"I spoke to Captain Ren and he called Chief Dobey. They let me work with an officer in the records department and she was able to dig into the federal cases you were involved in."

"She? Her name didn't happen to be Minnie, did it?"

Drew laughed, "That's her. That's another reason I'm so late. We had a nice talk."

Starsky grimaced. "I can just imagine about what. But we'll discuss that later. Booth has been in the Pen for racketeering and fraud."

"Got out less than two weeks ago. And, he has been fully trained in drafting. That's our man."

Starsky looked up at Drew's excited expression. "_Our _man?"

Drew looked at Starsky nervously. "Well, yeah, I…uh." He took a breath. "Goddammit, Starsky. Yes, _our_ man. I know I'm just your assistant but I'd like to also think of you as…as a friend."

Starsky looked down at his desk. He wasn't sure he could offer his friendship to this Hutch doppelganger. When his best friend died, he buried his heart with him. But Starsky didn't want to hurt Drew's feelings so he pasted on a smile and looked up. "Okay, friend. We are going to pay him a visit first thing tomorrow."

"But…but why not now?"

Starsky felt emotionally exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to have a beer and forget this misery for a little while. I'm getting too old for this drama, he thought. "Go home. See you in the morning." Starsky had some kindness to his tone but enough firmness to show Drew it was not up for debate.

After Drew left, Starsky looked over at the couch. He knew he needed a good night's rest before facing Booth tomorrow but he didn't feel like dealing with the ride home. He would consider getting a bottle and two shot glasses for his bottom drawer, just like he'd seen in the movies. Starsky smiled to himself as he stretched out on the sofa.

Drew pulled into a gas station on his way home. He went inside and paid for the gas and got himself a bottle of soda and a bag of chips. He realized he was picking up his boss' bad food habits but right now he didn't care. As he came back outside, he heard the sound of an engine attempting to turn over. He looked over and saw a dark blue sedan with the hood up.

"Engine trouble, huh?"

"Yeah, I think it might be the alternator. Chief Dobey is going to have my hide if I don't get back to Metro."

Drew brightened. "Oh, you work for Chief Dobey?"

"Yeah, you know him?"

"I sure do. I met him today. I know Captain Ren too. Hey, listen, I have some extra time. Can I give you a lift there? You can come back for the car later."

"I really appreciate that." The man got out of his car and offered his hand. "I'm Bob. Sergeant Bob Davis."

Drew juggled the drink and chips in one hand and shook the other man's hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm Drew. Come on, my car is right here at the pump."

Drew got in the car and started the engine. The man beside him pulled a gun and pointed it at him. "Don't make any funny moves," Booth said.

"What is this? What do you want?"

"I'll ask the questions. Just drive." Booth put his finger on the trigger to emphasize his request.

Starsky woke to the sound of the phone. He could see the sunrise through the blinds nearby. "Who the hell is calling at this hour?" Starsky got up and stumbled to the phone. "Hello?"

"Where are you? Aren't you coming home?"

Starsky didn't recognize the voice but his heart jumped into his throat. "Who is this?"

"I think you probably have that figured out. Tell me, did your little Hutch wannabe help you with that?"

Starsky bit his lip to keep from over reacting. "You leave him out of this."

"I'm afraid I can't do that." Starsky heard the phone receiver rustle as the caller moved it. Then he heard Drew's voice and his blood ran cold.

"Starsky, I'm sorry. Don't…" Drew was cut off as Starsky heard what sounded like a scuffle.

"Drew!"

"If you want to see him again, come over to the ranch."

"My ranch?"

A cackle of a laugh, then, "Yes."

"I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Don't get yourself a speeding ticket, Mr. Former Lieutenant Starsky." The cold laugh came through the receiver again before the call went dead.

Starsky grabbed his keys and ran out of the office, leaving it unlocked. At this hour, he could make it to his place in less than 30 minutes at normal speed. He hoped he wouldn't get pulled over.

Starsky parked haphazardly in the driveway behind Drew's Mustang and ran into the house. The front door lock had been broken and the door was ajar. He slowed down and pulled his weapon from its holster. He slowly entered the house and looked around, thankful for the early morning sun pouring through the windows.

"Booth? Drew?" Not receiving an answer, Starsky made his way to the kitchen. His stomach flipped as he found a small pool of blood on the kitchen floor. He followed the drips out onto the deck.

Drew was hogtied and in the middle of the corral. Starsky was thankful to see he was alive and sitting up. He could, however, see his khaki pants darkened by blood on his thigh.

"Drew. You okay?"

"Yes. Starsky, you shouldn't be here."

"Where is he, Drew?" Starsky said as he continued across the deck and down the steps to the ground.

"Right here." Booth stepped out of the barn. He had Royale in a harness and led him along with him.

"Look, Booth, let the boy go and you can have me."

"No, Starsky!" Drew cried out. Starsky looked at him sharply trying to let Drew see that he needed to be quiet.

Meanwhile, Booth moved to the far side of Royale, using him as a shield to keep Starsky from shooting at him. His gun was trained on Drew.

Starsky opened the gate and stepped slowly into the corral. "Let Drew go and we'll talk."

Booth laughed loudly, causing Royale to step back. He pulled on the reigns and remained close to the horse. "Drop the gun."

Starsky looked from Booth to Drew. He knew he had to do as he was told so he tossed his weapon behind him in the dirt. As he got closer to Drew, he saw how much blood the young man had lost. Drew was pale and shivering. Their eyes met briefly but Starsky had to look away, the pain in the blue eyes was too hard to bear. Not again.

Starsky put his hands up in the air. "You have me. Booth. Do what you have to do but save the boy." Starsky heard a whispered 'no' come from Drew as his grip on consciousness slipped away and he fell back into the dirt. Starsky's heart clenched in his chest and he did the only thing he knew how, he let out a sharp whistle then broke into a run straight at Booth.

Royale, hearing the whistle, reared up on his hind legs, his flailing hoof caught Booth on the temple and he was knocked back off his feet. By the time he came to his senses, Starsky was on top of him who backhanded him across the face. He went limp.

Starsky's rage boiled up and came out as a strangled cry. He grabbed Booth's gun and tucked it into his belt. Slipping Royale's harness from his head, Starsky used it to hog tie Booth as he had tied Drew. He then turned and ran toward to the house to call for help.

Starsky sat beside Drew's hospital bed and watched at the young man came around. He stood up and leaned over him. "Drew? Can you open your eyes?" Drew did as his employer asked and Starsky grinned. "Hey, welcome back."

"Starsky? You're okay."

"Course, I'm okay. You're the one in the hospital. How ya feeling?"

"Tired."

"Understandable. You lost a lot of blood."

"You sure you're okay?" Drew asked trying to sit up.

Starsky hit the button on the bed railing and the head of the bed rose up. He then straightened Drew's pillow. "Comfortable?" Drew nodded. Starsky took a cup of water from the bedside table and offered it to Drew. As he placed the cup back down, Starsky turned his head away. The memories of caring for Hutch in this way overtook him. He felt his knees go weak but held tight to the bedrail. He looked back at Drew with a smile.

"I am so sorry you got wrapped up in that, Drew."

"I'm just glad you are okay."

"Same here. Doc says the wound isn't too bad. You just lost a lot of blood. A few days of this," Starsky poked at the intravenous bag hanging over the bed, "and some rest, you'll be good as new." Starsky took in a deep breath. "Then I think you need to find a new job."

Drew pushed himself up onto his elbows and closed his eyes to settle the wave of dizziness. "You're firing me?"

"No, of course not. But you've got talent, Junior. You should go do something with that." Drew nodded sadly. Starsky leaned his elbows on the bedrail. "I think I need to explain something to you." Drew waited patiently for Starsky to speak. Starsky took in another deep breath. "To be honest, it has been difficult working with you." Starsky didn't look up, afraid of seeing the hurt in Drew's eyes. "Don't get me wrong, you've been great and I know you wanted us to be friends but…you remind me too much…"

"Of Hutch." Drew said quietly and Starsky nodded, still not looking up.

"I have something to tell you too, Starsky."

"What's that?" Starsky asked, finally looked into Drew's sky blue eyes.

"I haven't been totally honest with you. When I showed up at your door, I didn't even know you had posted a help wanted ad."

"What?"

"I just wanted to meet you. And when you asked about coming for an interview, I jumped at it."

Starsky was openly confused. "Meet me? What the heck for?"

"Well, we have someone in common in our lives."

"Who?" Starsky asked, his brow furrowing.

"I know I told you I grew up in San Diego and was raised by my grandparents."

"Yeah."

"Well…my mother. Her name was Vanessa Kensington."

Starsky mouthed the name 'Vanessa' slowly.

"Vanessa Kensington Hutchinson."

Starsky pushed himself up to a standing position. His head was buzzing, his breathing rate increasing. He quickly did the math in his head. "Hutch?"

"Kenneth Andrew Hutchinson was my father."

Starsky stumbled back, his right leg hit the chair he had been sitting in and he stumbled. "Hutch? Hutch's son?"

"Starsky are you okay? Maybe you should sit down." Drew was worried for the older man whose face had lost all its color.

"Why?" Starsky breathed out. "Why didn't he tell me?"

Drew raised the head of his bed again and reached for Starsky's arm but Starsky pulled away.

"He didn't know. Starsky, he never knew about me. I think my mother was going to tell him the day she was killed. But I don't know for sure. My grandparents never understood why she hid me from him."

Starsky blinked rapidly. His breath slowed slightly. He looked over at the blond man in the bed. His eyes were unfocused and again and it was as if he was looking at Hutch. He grabbed onto the bedrail and leaned down to try to pull himself together. After a few moments he backed up and sat down heavily in the chair. He rested his face in his hands.

Drew watched Starsky closely. He waited a while then asked, "Are you okay?" When Starsky looked up, the pain in Starsky's face took Drew's breath away; he had to look away. "I shouldn't have told you."

Inside Starsky an anger roiled. Hutch had a son but never knew. Vanessa was dead but she still managed to have control over his best friend. Images flashed across Starsky's mind, images of Hutch with Drew as a child, taking him hiking, going to ball games. Starsky dug his fingernails into the flesh of his arm until he drew blood. _Damn you, Vanessa. Damn you to hell._

Eventually, he pulled himself back to the present and looked up at the lost young man who had his best friend's eyes, his best friend's caring and compassion. He pushed himself up, walked over to Drew and leaned over to take him into his arms. Drew was taken off guard by the gesture but soon he wrapped his arms around Starsky as he felt his body shake with sobs. Drew's own tears began to fall.

When Starsky's crying eased, he let go of Drew and pulled away but kept his hands on the young man's shoulders. He searched those blue eyes and eventually smiled as he saw a part of Hutch in front of him. Starsky choked out a laugh. "We have a lot to talk about."

Drew smiled and he wiped a tear from his cheek. "We sure do."

Starsky spent as much time as he could at the hospital with Drew. He brought Huggy with him the day before Drew was to be released and they both gave Huggy the news. After the customary shock, Huggy also grabbed Drew into a bear hug and welcomed him into their family. Everyone that was told shared Starsky's sadness that Hutch would never know his son. When Drew was released from the hospital, Starsky picked him up. As Drew dozed in the front seat of the Torino, Starsky pulled into his driveway. Drew slowly opened his eyes. "What are we doing here?"

"I don't feel right leaving you at your tiny apartment. Stay here for a while, would ya?" Starsky asked.

Drew studied the older man carefully. "Are you sure, Starsky?"

"Sure I'm sure. I made up Hutch's room…your Dad's room…for you."

"Well, thank you. I appreciate this."

Starsky helped Drew with his crutches and they went in the front door. Starsky stayed behind him as everyone in the house yelled out "Surprise!" Huggy, Captain Ren, Chief Dobey, Minnie and many of the men that worked with or reported to Hutch were in the house. Drew steadied himself then looked back at Starsky. "What's this?" Drew looked up and saw a banner that spelled out 'Welcome Home.'

Starsky moved around to face Drew. "Look, this is your Dad's house, not just mine. I know he would want you here…and so do I. I'd like you to move in."

Drew was shocked but deeply touched. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. Why would everyone be here to welcome you home, if I wasn't? Starsky helped Drew to the living room and got him settled in the most comfortable chair. Huggy handed Drew a soda and told him lunch would be ready in an hour.

Dobey cleared his throat. "Everyone, let's head out onto the deck and give them some time to talk."

Once the room was quiet, Starsky sat down next to Drew. "I really want you to stay."

"But, Starsky, you said it was difficult to have me around – and I understand how you feel. It's okay."

"Drew that was true but it is different now. Now I see why you reminded me so much of Hutch. I thought I was losing my mind there for a while." Starsky gave Drew his classic lopsided grin, his eyes sparkling with happiness this time, not tears. "And there is something else." Starsky pulled a check from his pocket and handed it to Drew whose eyes became as big as saucers.

"What is this?"

"That is your inheritance…from your Dad."

"Starsky, this is not mine. This is yours." Drew pushed the check back at Starsky.

"Look, this isn't all of it. I have enough to keep the house going, plenty of money left for Royale to get the king's treatment he deserves. I had no intention of spending this money. It was what Hutch received when his father died, so it really should be yours."

Drew shook his head in amazement. "I'll tell you what, I'll consider it, okay?" Drew tipped his head to one side and it was if Hutch was sitting in the room with Starsky.

Starsky laughed. "Okay. And speaking of grandparents, Hutch's mother is going to love you."

"Ya think so?"

"I know so."

Drew took in a deep breath and looked around the beautiful house then out to the deck full of people and Royale frolicking in the corral. "I do feel like I'm home. Thank you, Starsky."

"You're welcome."

"I have one question."

"What's that?" Starsky asked, eyeing Drew carefully.

"Can I keep my job?"

"All that money and you want that rinky dink job?"

"Yeah, I do," Drew replied, his jaw jutting out in defiance. "And I want something else too."

Starsky sighed, "I've created a monster, what now?"

"Computers in the office."

"What?"

"It's 1996, for cripes sake, Starsky."

Huggy, who had been listening in the kitchen, let out a laugh. "He's got you, Starsky. Give in."

"Okay, okay, I give." Starsky reached out and ran his hand through Drew's blond hair. "Anything you want, Buddy."

**The End**

A/N: Some parts of this story are based on the Barnaby Jones episode _Doomsday: Sunday._


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